Alaska — One year before moving to Forks

"Oh Carlisle, must you really leave this early?"

Esme stood at the open door, leaning on the doorframe as she wrung her hands, her mind reeling at the content of his latest phone call.

Carlisle sat at his desk, his phone in one hand as his other pinched the bridge of his nose, an old habit he's carried over from when he was human.

"I know Esme, but there's really nothing that I can do. The hospital needs me."

She took one step into the room towards the desk, towards him.

"I just don't understand why the rest of us can't come with you. It's not as though we've never pulled the kids out of school early. Not that it really matters, but...," her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip to keep her emotions in check.

Using the hand that was already on his face he pushed it back into his hair, running his fingers through the strands.

"While that's true, we don't have a treaty in place anywhere else we've moved. Unfortunately, we still have a year before we can all move back. It's much easier to convince them to let just me in."

He sensed her move closer out of the corner of his eye and pushed himself up from his desk to meet her halfway. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms as she looked up at him from under her lashes.

"It's just... we've never been apart from each other. Will we be okay?"

"It'Il only be for a year, darling. That's practically a blink of an eye for us. Besides," he lifted her head, cupping her cheeks to caress them softly, "we've endured much longer and worse situations before we found each other. We'll be just fine."

She gave him a trembling smile and clasped her hands over his.

"Yes, I suppose you're right."

He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, breathing in her scent. He wrapped his arms around her in a sweet hug, pressing her into his body. Bringing his lips to her ear he whispered, "I know I am."

She huffed a laugh into his chest and thumped him with the heel of her hand. They stood there, in the middle of the room, basking in each other for a few silent moments.

He was on the plane within the next hour.

Swan Residence — Forks, Washington

"Yo, Daddles ," I asked as my mouth was already wrapped around a bite of banana, "when are you getting back home from work tonight?"

"Not too late. I should be back around eight." He paused, throwing me a suspicious look. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason. I was just wondering."

"Uh huh. Now, tell me, is it the same reason you were 'just wondering' back when I got home early and caught you making out with that boy on the living room couch your senior year?"

I groaned, covering my face with the palm of my free hand. "Come on, Dad, we agreed to never speak of that again. The embarrassment of that night was enough of a punishment. For the both of us."

Shuddering at the memory, I finished off the banana and tossed the peel in the trash.

"Anyway, no, that's not the reason I'm asking. I just wanted to make sure you didn't forget about our—"

"Our 'Super Scary Movie Marathon' night? Of course I haven't forgotten." I smiled brightly at him. "You've only been reminding me about it every three hours for the last week."

Gasping in disbelief I threw the closest ammunition I had at him which happened to be the dish towel hanging from the stove. He snatched it from the air easily, laughing and tossing it back at me before I had a chance to react. It smacked me square in the face before dropping into my outstretched hands.

Grumbling, I turned around to hang the towel back on the stove handle. I suddenly had an arm slung over my shoulders and a chaste kiss being pressed to the top of my head.

"Oh, come on, kid. You know I'm just messing with you. If anything, I'm glad you remind me; things like that just seem to slip my mind recently."

I snorted, giving him a side-eyed glance. "Your memory going in your old age?"

"Ha ha, very funny." He gave me a little tap on the head before glancing down at his watch. "Shoot, I really should be going."

He walked over to where his jacket rested on the back of one of the dining room chairs, picked it up, and slid into it. "Is there anything you need me to pick up for our movie marathon before I get home from work?"

"Hmm, maybe some popcorn? Oh, and some peanut M&M's, please!"

He pulled a face. "I will never understand how you could possibly like those two things together."

"Don't knock it 'til you try it, old man!"

"Watch it."

I rolled my eyes before launching myself at him in a sneak attack, squeezing him tightly around the waist. "Yeah, yeah, c' mere you big softie."

He chuckled, bringing his arms around me in an equally tight hug. "Love ya, kid."

"I love you, too, Dad."

We stood there for a moment until I started pressing my hands against his abdomen, pushing him towards the front door. "Okay, okay, enough sappy shit. Go save the day or whatever."

"Alright, alright, I'm going! I'll call you when I'm on my way home."

We waved our goodbyes as I watched him walk out to his cruiser. I called out to him before he backed out of the driveway.

"Be safe!"

He smiled his acknowledgment and pulled out before driving off down the road.

Two hours.

When I had gotten no word from my dad at eight o'clock I tried not to worry. It wouldn't be the first time he'd forgotten to tell me he was on his way home. Once nine had come and gone without a word from him, I was halfway through pacing a hole in our living room floor. Now, as it neared ten, I could only sit numbly on the couch as I stared at the cell phone in my hands, willing it to ring.

Why hasn't he called? He's supposed to have called by now. Did something happen to him? Oh god, I hope nothing's happened to him! Wouldn't I have heard from someone if something did happen to him? I suppose no news is good news, right? Right?!

I had gotten so lost in my thoughts I didn't even register the phone violently vibrating in my palms.

'Hospital,' it read.

Please, god, no.

I fumbled to answer the call and brought the phone up to my ear with shaky hands. "H-hello?"

"Briar? It's Cynthia. I'm calling about your dad—"

"My dad? Is everything okay? Is...is he okay?"

"Yes, don't worry. He's fine. Everything is fine. He wanted me to call you earlier, but everything's just been so busy here..."

The rest of her words were drowned out as the room was suddenly awash with the glow of headlights as someone pulled into the driveway.

"Hey, Cynthia, I gotta go. Thanks for calling."

Without bothering to hang up, I dropped my phone on the couch and ran to the front door, ripping it open. I must have startled him because he hit his head on the roof of the car as he reached into the backseat to grab something, but I was too upset to care.

"Where have you been?"

He emerged from the backseat with a plastic bag in his hand and a sheepish look on his face.

"I'm sorry, Briar. I know I should have called—"

"Yes, you should have!"

"Look, I was on my way home, but something came up with Dr. Shore and—"

"I don't give a damn about Dr. Shore! Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?" I could tell I was beginning to push it with him, but I found myself unable to stop. "No phone call, no text, nothing! Something really serious could have happened to you, and I would just be left in the dark for who knows how long!"

I hadn't even realized I started crying until I felt rough thumbs wipe them away. He tilted my head up, but for all the voracity I had been feeling I found I couldn't look him in the eye, choosing instead to squeeze mine shut.

"I'm sorry for yelling, but we've only got each other, and if anything were to happen to you I'd be left all alone, and I wouldn't know what to do, and..."

"Briar, breathe."

I took a couple of deep breaths, following as he breathed along with me, until I was no longer hyperventilating.

"Can you look at me?" I vehemently shook my head no. "Please?"

I cracked my eyes open to see that he had shed a few himself which only brought a fresh wave of tears to fall. He soothingly shushed me, wiping the new tears away.

"I am so sorry."

I had never heard my dad sound so sincere, and it must have shown on my face.

"You're right; I was irresponsible. I should have called and told you what was going on or at least that I would be home late. I usually do, so tonight should have been no excuse. I promise to never let it happen again. Do you forgive me?"

I was utterly stunned. Shocked. Frozen. Unable to speak.

"I can tell that whatever I say isn't going to be enough. But what if I told you that I picked up an extra bag of Twizzlers to sweeten the deal?"

He gestured to the plastic bag that had fallen around his elbow, the material rustling in response.

I cracked a smile. "I'd say you're about halfway to being forgiven."

"Oh? And how do I make up the other half?"

"I'm sure I'll think of something."

His apprehensive look was ignored as I sent him a blinding smile.

" ... deal?"

We were halfway through Van Helsing before something occurred to me.

"What did you say happened with Dr. Shore?"

"Oh, yeah. He, uh, had a heart attack and died."

"Ohhhhh shit."